


Unrepentant

by CrackingLamb



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Because Lavellan Thinks It's a Regular Dream, Chasing, Come Worship At the Altar of Fen'Harel, F/M, Fade Sex, Gentle Dom!Solas, Hair-pulling, Mildly Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27867794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: "Would you like me to chase you?”“What will you do?”“I will catch you,” he said.“And then what will you do?”“I willdevouryou,” he promised.  There were teeth in those words, gnashing, gleaming and sharp.  “Would you like to run?"“Yes."Beta'd by Iron_Angel
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 104





	Unrepentant

**Author's Note:**

> I was in the mood for a specific kind of dark!Solas. So I farm-to-tabled this whole thing today.
> 
> Enjoy!

This was the Fade, she was sure of it. In waking life, these walls did not peer at her so, nor did the whispers follow and shadow her every step. She felt overwhelmed by them, and yet blind and deaf. She could not shape her dreams, had no control over them. She could not run from them like stepping out of the room into a pocket of safety.

A shadow loomed, its eyes following her, tracking her like a predator.

She knew it was the Fade because she was not afraid.

Her dreaming self stood taller, confident and proud in her bearing. Her spine flexed with readiness, her limbs felt like they burned with the need to move, but it was not fear. She was simply no easy prey.

A dark chuckle flowed across her body, palpable as a touch. “I see you, da'len.”

She knew that voice, knew it as measured, assured and calm. Patient and kind and careful. Never this heady, playful thing that promised untold riches if she but reached out for them.

She knew it was the Fade, because he would never call her that in waking. And she would never feel a pulse inside herself at hearing it, a thrum in the center of her being that _ached_ to hear it again.

“I'm dreaming,” she said, pointing out a fact. The soft rumble of laughter coated her skin, a caress and a promise all its own.

“Yes, you are. What curious dreams you have. Would you like me to chase you?”

She stiffened her shoulders against the desire to arch, to pose. She knew she could end this by waking herself, and a part of her wanted to. But only a part. “Is this a game?”

“It is always a game,” he purred, both in her ear and everywhere around her, filling the endless space with his voice. Honey could not flow sweeter than his voice and that was a treacherous thought, bringing with it secrets she had barely told herself. There was a beat of silence and she felt within that beat that a decision was being made. One that would change... _everything_.

“Answer the question, da'len. Would you like me to chase you?”

She suppressed the urge to whimper, tried to push back the thump of her heart, the pulse of desire that licked her insides as surely as flame. She wanted to run, oh how she wanted to run! But it was not fear, because this was the Fade and it was not real. Upon waking, she wouldn't even remember it. Not fully.

“What will you do?” she asked, blotting out the laugh that was really touch, the gaze pinning her in place although she could not find it. The breath against her neck even though nothing was there.

“I will catch you,” he said, and it was in her ear, so close it stirred the hairs floating there, loose and spilling over her shoulder. If she turned her head, he should be there. Would he look the same as he did in waking? Humble posture, humble clothes, the unassuming apostate who never raised his voice, never took command. One had only to really _look_ at him to see through all those lies. She shivered under the leashed force of those four simple words.

“And then what will you do?” she breathed, barely a whisper, barely an exhalation. The presence loomed around her, infinite and powerful and she knew she should be afraid, but she wasn't. Because it was him, and it was the Fade and it wasn't real.

“I will _devour_ you,” he promised. There were teeth in those words, gnashing, gleaming and sharp. “Would you like to run?”

“Yes,” she breathed again. A sound so soft it was barely there.

There was a whisper of contact along the side of her neck, the gentle feeling of fingers, sliding across her skin to her pulse, measuring it. Then she felt the imprint of lips, so soft, no hint of anything other than chastity. But she couldn't believe that. If this was a game, that was one of the steps, lowering her guard. His presence moved away, cleared a little space between them. How she knew didn't matter. It didn't matter that she couldn't see him. That was part of the game too. Still, she turned her head, following the motion of the shadow at her back.

He chuckled again, dark and low. It lit a fire in her belly. “Run, da'len. _Run_.”

And she ran.

She dashed through corridors and narrow rooms, blind to their contents. She passed through a hall that looked much like Skyhold, empty of eyes but full of voices. She flew down stairs, across broad paths of stone, then grass, then rich, loamy soil. The walls around her were now trees and she ducked between them, veering to and fro. Now there were only the night sounds around her, distant sounds of insects and wind. And the loping footfalls of her predator.

She ran.

She never grew tired, never breathless with exertion. It was the Fade and it wasn't real. She knew this. So she ran, through the forest until it ended, across the dunes of some far-flung desert under a moon so bright it hurt her eyes, near the shore of a restless ocean, misting her with salt spray she could taste on her lips. And always, he was behind her, his breath on the back on her neck, the sound of his feet near silent but heavy enough to shake the world.

She veered away again, going back into trees, paths walked by countless creatures, shadows so deep nothing grew in them. She ducked between the massive trunks, leapt over roots and scrambled through the loam of thousands of years of fallen leaves. And he followed.

She came to a mountain and she scaled it, hand over hand, her feet sure and tireless. She climbed and didn't need to look behind her to know he was still there. The wind blew and there was no other sound than the harshness of her breathing and the sound of scrabbling. She gained the peak and ran again. There was a solitary tower nestled in a valley, surrounded on all sides by a lake of such pristine blue it made her eyes sting. There was a single bridge leading to it and she headed that way. And she knew, somehow she knew, she had been herded here every bit as much as a cat corners its prey under a cupboard.

On quick, slapping feet she crossed the bridge and raced into the tower, flying up the stairs and into the coolness of the stone. It was a dizzying jumble of rooms and mirrors, cascades of color and light and she didn't stop to look, because she needed to run, needed to hide. No, he had her scent, he heard her footsteps. She couldn't hide from him.

The room she found herself in was too open, with only the guardian eyes of the wolf watching her. She was shocked into stillness. What part of her sleeping mind conjured this?

Her shadowy pursuer sidled along the walls, too big to see the shape of, too close to ignore. “Do you see me there, da'len?”

“I...I see you.”

“Did you tire of the hunt?”

“Did you?” she countered.

Again his laugh rolled over her, rich like forbidden spices. Indolent, caressing, dark. Heat blossomed where exertion should have been. Its shape was desire and it was sharp. She could not look away from the stone wolf, although she could feel him move around behind her, his shadow a protective cloak against her back.

“I am ageless and unending, da'len. I will never tire of the hunt.” There was a pause, contemplative. Soothing, almost. “Do you wish to be caught?”

She centered herself, still staring at the stone wolf. She wasn't afraid. This was the Fade...

“Yes.”

Warmth bled against her back, becoming solid as hands slid around her. Hips, waist, ribs, breasts. It was a comforting touch, and yet it was also inflaming. She was being laid bare, not just to skin but to soul. A rasp of sound, like cloth falling, like a breath sighing, like skin on skin. She closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the stone wolf, concentrating on the feel of the hands that were touching her.

She was kneeling, but she did not remember how she got that way. The stones under her hands and knees should have been hard and painful, but they were not. And still she felt his touch, up her spine, across her shoulder blades, down her arms. For a moment fingers threaded with hers and a flare in her left hand surged through her and made her gasp. His hands released hers, trailing back down towards her hips, towards the shifting restlessness of her legs where they were spread. A sweep of fingers passed between them, parting her effortlessly and sliding through the slick gathered there.

“The chase aroused you,” he said softly and no sense of looming presence remained. He had confined himself to a single space, made himself as small as she was. He played delicately along her folds, tracing patterns known only to him, sending a blinding rush of sensation through her whole body. She fell forward, her arms no longer holding her up. She should have felt the grit of stone under her cheek, but she didn't.

“Please...” she begged, and didn't know what she was begging for.

She felt one hand brace against her backside, holding her in place while also pulling her open. His fingers dipped, toyed, stroked. She muffled the sounds she wanted to make into her forearms, folded under her while she balanced on her elbows.

“There is no need to be so quiet here. No one can hear you but me.”

Two fingers entered her smoothly, coated in her slick. They hooked inside her and she grunted out a cry, startled by her own vehemence even as she felt herself rock back into his touch. His laugh spread across her skin, leaving a wake of goosebumps.

“You are very responsive, da'len,” he whispered, still in that dark, heady voice that she had never heard in waking. It wasn't real, she reminded herself. It was just the Fade.

He pushed her forward, so her spine arched and her legs parted more. His fingers filled her in a precise sort of way, calculated to test how much she could take without offering her the relief of release. She began to whine. The fingers withdrew, and she felt both hands at the juncture where her legs met her hips. He held her motionless with little more than that touch, powerless to escape or maneuver. It didn't matter, she didn't want to. He'd caught her, hadn't he?

The first touch of his tongue made her jerk and gasp. The second made her clench as just the tip of it flicked against her clit, a spot he'd ignored utterly until then. The shock of it sent her reeling into her own head and she made a noise she had never heard herself make. His tongue was light but persistent and she felt pressure building, unstoppable as a tide.

“Please!” she cried out.

He lapped at her then, his tongue spreading her slick until it coated the backs of her thighs. She was strung so tightly she wasn't sure what was going to happen when it snapped. But he didn't let her either. He held her there, poised on the edge of it, suspended over stone, grounded only by his hands on her ass and his tongue on her clit. And she sobbed as she begged.

“Please...”

All at once the sensations were gone and she nearly collapsed to the stone floor. She panted, driven near madness with thwarted desire. Then she felt the weight of him. It crept up her legs, across her back, bracketing her, a cloak of shadows and want, depthless and _ruthless_. And then he was filling her, sealing his cock inside her in a single smooth push. She let out a harsh breath and pressed back, needing more, needing it all.

He set a grueling pace of thrust and withdrawal. He bucked into her and she took it, feeling the pressure continue to build but never peak. Her nails scraped against stone, her cries grew ragged and breathless as her very air was stolen. She hadn't felt this burn while running, but now she was undone by touch. He pulled her back, so she was near sitting on his legs, splayed out in reverse, his arms around her waist holding her tight. And still he filled her, again and again, a ceaseless rhythm. One hand slipped away from the grip around her waist to fill a palm with her breast. The other left her too, only to come back by stealing into her hair at the nape of her neck, tugging up her head with a firm pull.

“Open your eyes, da'len,” he said in her ear, forcing her up into an impossible angle that should have been painful but wasn't. If anything, his complete mastery over her made her more pliant.

She opened her eyes and found herself staring at the stone wolf again. His mouth closed on her ear, a pinch of sharp teeth, the warmth of his lips, mixing a jolt of pain with the pleasure. His cock was buried deep in her, his hands hard on her body and in her hair and she simply fell apart.

She sobbed and cried out and whimpered as she came, she unraveled until she was nothing but sensation. It didn't end but spiraled higher, coiling again as he shifted her upright. She straddled his thighs, feeling them bunch under her own. He still had a fist in her hair, holding her tight, but he let go of her breast. She couldn't look away from the wolf, but she could feel his fingers against the place where their bodies were joined. She was so wet that each jolting stroke made an obscene noise and he hummed in her ear. His fingers slid through the wetness, slipping and sliding their way across her flesh with precision designed to torment before finally pressing against her clit.

She sighed, either in relief or some other darker emotion. He laughed in her ear, the sound making her shudder and quake on his length, against his body. His fingers petted her clit, his cock filled her to bursting and his laugh wrapped around her as surely as a barrier would. And she came again, sound erupting from her throat as her body pulsed and dripped on the stones beneath them.

Suddenly she was spinning. She landed on her back. She expected the stones to scrape her shoulders raw, but his hands were beneath her, cradling her. She couldn't see the wolf anymore, she couldn't see anything but shadow as the room went dark, not even lit with starlight.

She stifled the words that wanted to come out of her mouth and got lost in the ferocity of sensation. Her legs were around him now, his body bowed over hers, covetous, protective. His mouth covered hers, his kiss both brutal and claiming. She whimpered into his mouth, then bit his lower lip. He growled at her and she felt a fresh spike of desire. She arched into him, met his thrusts with her own. Her arms flailed wildly for him, caught on the shadowy form of him, found his arms, shoulders, neck. She felt as though she was shaping him, making him tangible with her touch. She cupped his head in her hands and when she opened her eyes, she could see him.

His eyes were as gray as a roiling storm, seeing into her until she burned. It was too much and she clenched tight on him in climax again, so pinned by his gaze she couldn't look away, couldn't even close her eyes under the onslaught.

“Solas...please...”

He groaned into her, following her over the edge, filling her until it spilled out of her body to drip on the stones as she had.

And then he was gone.

***

She woke with a jolt, sitting up so fast she nearly fell off the chaise tucked against the curved wall of the rotunda. For a moment she was disoriented and lost, and didn't know where she was or what had happened. Her heart was racing and her body was thrumming.

The scrape of a chair on stone drew her attention and she looked to the center of the rotunda to see Solas standing up from his work table and crossing the space to where she'd fallen asleep while watching him work on the murals. He was finished she saw, the colors were already changing as they dried.

“Did you have pleasant dreams?” he inquired politely. The look he gave her was filled with unearthly calm and his voice betrayed nothing at all, but beneath his serenity she found a thread of wickedness. A gleam perhaps, a quirk of his lips. She couldn't speak for a long moment.

“It wasn't...” _Real_.

His head tilted to the side, the kind of look he gave those who made him contemplate his words carefully. “That's a matter of debate.”

His eyes held hers as she remembered every detail of the dream. Everything. Her body flushed, need and shock and the burn of what should have been mortification but wasn't. His face was still calm and it reminded her too much of the stone wolf in the tower. She drew in a breath and held it. Something felt just outside of her grasp. Something that should have made her feel even the least bit ashamed of what happened, that should have made her _fear_. But she didn't.

“You should get some more rest, I think,” he went on. “Perhaps in your own bed?”

“I...” She tried to think, but it was all a jumble. He was right, she was exhausted, as if she'd run from Skyhold to the Hissing Waste and back. She pushed herself to her feet, desperately trying to ignore the slippery feeling between her legs. She needed to escape before he noticed, before she couldn't stop herself from asking for it again. Begging for it. “Yes, I think I should.”

When he spoke again, it was soft. It rippled across her skin, made her insides clench and her heart rate spike anew. “Goodnight, da'len.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always the lifeblood. I reply to every comment. Cheers!


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